


Starry Night

by Jamesneatojourney



Category: Impact Wrestling | Total Nonstop Action Wrestling, Professional Wrestling
Genre: Abyss trying to be helpful, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post Total Nonstop Deletion, Steve got launched out the Hardy's volcano so yeah hes not doing great, Steve suffers in this a lot yall, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 00:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13088235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamesneatojourney/pseuds/Jamesneatojourney
Summary: Abyss was by no means a delicate man. He had found his place as a man capable of dealing damage, serious damage at that. He was a monster, hired muscle, the looming figure backing up some sniveling mouthpiece, but he's never been the caretaker. This type of delicate work was new to him, and, given who he's taking care OF, it was terrifying.----Without Rosemary, Abyss and Steve have to get off the Hardy Compound ASAP following the events of the Tag Team Apocalypto.





	Starry Night

The distant cheering of house hardy grew quiet as they returned home. As the voices died down, all that remained was the crackling of the dying fires on the property, and Abyss's own unsteady, shallow breathing. Abyss remained curled up in the ring where Matt had left him, clutching his stomach with a shaky hand. In an attempt to stop the bleeding, he tried to move as little as possible, the sound of his rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears. The jagged, uneven punctures from Janice are excruciating, just the reason Abyss loves her so much. The frigid air of Cameron brought him fully to consciousness, and Abyss finally realized the Hardy's were gone. He tried to remember the course of the evening, but only could remember fire, pain, and Matt's wild laughter. Then nothing.

'I didn’t feel the pin, did I pass out?' 

Abyss slowly rolled himself onto his back with a muffled groan. Flat on his back, he breathed shallowly, cold sweat beading on his forehead from exhausted delirium. Abyss's throat suddenly seized and he was thrown into a weak coughing fit, devolving into a quiet chuckle. He opened his eyes to the clear Cameron sky, looking to the stars with a soft smile. He took another shaky breath and whispered,

"What a beautiful night"

Abyss felt the throbbing pain in his torso start growing numb, whether it be from the bitter cold or the blood loss he didn't know. After a few minutes of staring empty at the night sky, mind having wandered, he was brought harshly back to reality when he heard a familiar high pitched, breathy whine. Abyss lolled his head towards the center of the ring, freezing when he lays eyes on his tag partner, limp, face contorted in excruciating pain. 

Steve was laying on his side, facing Abyss, his eyes squeezed shut. There was soot caked into his singed hair, and open weeping blisters trailed up his neck onto his chin. Abyss felt a lump in his throat; Steves normally jovial response to pain was nowhere to be seen, his usually present smile warped into a deep grimace. His lips were split and bloody, and his teeth were bared as Steve tried to quiet the pained noises that clawed at his throat. His hands were held close to himself, his pose going almost fetal, clenching and unclenching. The light of the smoldering fires danced across Steves chest, which Abyss could now see was unnaturally shiny and going an off grey. Signs of 3rd degree burns for sure. Abyss couldn’t see any of Steve's back, which he assumed took the brunt of whatever nightmare Steve went through while they were separated. 

His left hand secure over his bloody abdomen, Abyss reached with his right hand towards Steve, just close enough to grab onto one of his hands. He was trembling, not from fear, Abyss could tell, but from pure agony. Steve was very similar to Abyss, they both found joy in everything they did. Inflicting pain, making people feel afraid, even the firm grip Steve had on that fools neck before he snapped it filled him with a rush of euphoria and pride. It was a beautiful sight. Up until now, this had been the perfect evening for the two of them. What a shame Rosemary couldn't make it.

Upon contact, Steve gripped onto Abyss's larger hand tightly, almost as a distraction. 

Abyss tore his gaze away from him long enough to glance back to his own wound. Though still trickling blood in spots, it was now a mass of tacky semi clotted blood that caked his left hand and shirt. Any movements Abyss attempted to make only restarted the bleeding, but he knew that they needed to get out of there. The Hardy compound is a place where one must be at their peak concentration and focus. It was riddled with traps and Matt's devoted soldiers, human or otherwise. Abyss tried to remember where they were on the compound, or which way was quickest to the property line. If they can get to Rosemary, they'll be ok. The hardy's managed to charm their property line to keep her out, something they didn’t see coming, but Rosemary can heal any wounds him and Steve have. But that is only if and when they manage to find her. She could be stalking any part of the property line, Abyss has no way of knowing where. It’s going to take everything, but they have to get out of there, before Matt decides on a new fate for them both. 

Abyss squeezed Steve's hand, making an attempt at a steady breath before speaking,

"Steve, can you hear me beautiful?"

Steve shifted slightly, breath coming in a choked off wheeze before cracking his eyes open, they were glassy and unfocused. Abyss felt that lump in his throat again, Steve's eyes didn't have the spark they normally do. His eyes were dull, and tired, and only now does Abyss see the underlying hint of fear. 

Steve didn't know what to do. He tried to lift his head and inhaled sharply through his teeth, letting his head thud back to the mat. A clump of matted burnt hair flopped away from his forehead, leaving a black smear of sweat and ash behind.

Abyss tightened his grip on the smaller man's hand in a weak attempt to recapture his attention.

"Rosemary. We need to get to her. Stevie, it's not gonna be easy, but we need to get off the compound. To...to wherever the charm ends, where she can get to us."

Steve looked at abyss with a look of fear and pain, but a slight glimmer of hope was there too. He twitched his head with the slightest of movements, just enough for Abyss to register it as a nod.

They had to go now, before Abyss passed out or Steve went into the inevitable shock that 3rd degree burns are bound to cause. Abyss clenched what teeth he had and took a deep breath. This was going to hurt. With a final squeeze, he released Steves clammy hand and used it to brace against the mat. Slowly, limbs violently shaking under the strain, Abyss began to force himself upright. He had to pause once or twice, pushing through the cold sweat and spinning landscape before he was finally able to get a knee beneath himself. Kneeling, he wavered slightly, balancing on one knee was a feat alone.

Steve watched Abyss struggle to his knees, but only now did he see Abyss's other hand clenched against his side. It, along with most of his left side, was caked in thick glistening blood. Which now had trailed down to thin rivulets on his pant leg. Steve watched Abyss focus so intently on balance, and possibly on keeping himself from getting sick. Abyss was hurt too.

Steve's breathing started to hitch, a cold sense of panic prickling up the back of what part of his neck still maintained feeling and settling into his throat. His jaw clicked as steve opened his mouth, taking a deep breath before trying to speak. His mouth opened and shut again, opening once more to wheeze in another breathy inhale, letting it out in a shuddering whine. His head was too foggy to try and form any words. A black fog had started taking up the corners of his vision, and the world was growing harder and harder to keep in focus. An eerie numbness engulfed Steves right foot, a portion of his sternum, and a frightening amount of his back. The searing, cracking pain began at his lower shoulder blades, throbbing up into a hot numbness his neck and pecs. Any movements he made whatsoever sent Steve into a dizzying agony.

Abyss, who was focusing intently on staying balanced and upright, immediately looked down on his tag partner. From his new vantage point, the true severity of Steve's wounds dawned on Abyss. His back was a gruesome charred mess, the only saving grace being that the nerves were likely so far gone that Steve shouldn’t be in too much pain over most of his back. 

Watching Steve open and shut his mouth, gasping through any attempts to speak set off alarms in Abyss. He's seen men go into shock, often times by his own hand. He's watched the signs, and knows what it takes to send people there. Steve can take so much punishment, and take it with a smile. But this was new. Abyss thought of the faces of those men: pale, trembling, dull eyed and suffering until eventually losing consciousness. And now as he stares down at Steve, he knows that it won’t be long until Steve does the same.

Abyss shook off the creeping feeling of fear before leaning close and whispering to Steve,

"We're gonna get to Rosemary, ok? Steve...this...this is going to hurt. I'll do my best, but this is going to hurt."

Steve looked up at Abyss, although it felt as though he were looking through him. His gaze was bleary, unfocused, and so incredibly tired. He stared for a moment and took a ragged break as his head twitched again into a nod, his face screwing up in pain as he did so. 

Abyss reached towards Steve and then paused, hands hovering, unsure as to how to go about this without making it worse. Quickly he drew his arms back and pulled off his long leather trenchcoat, wincing at the pull of the leather off his still open wound. His jacket was dirty, wet, and streaked with his own thick blood, but it should help. He laid his jacket out onto the mat beside Steve, momentarily taken aback at how small he was in comparison to it. Abyss leaned in again, holding his hands just off Steve's charred and mangled body,

"I'm gonna lift you up, just for a moment. Take a deep breath beautiful."

Steve obeyed and wheezed in a shuddering breath, locking eyes with his tag partner looming over him.

Abyss looked into his cloudy eyes for only a moment before reaching under the crook of his knees and his shoulder blades, and was able to only apply the slightest hint of pressure in an attempt to lift him before Steve let out a pained cry. Immediately followed by a ragged sob that devolved into a weak fit of hyperventilation. One of Steve’s hand's, which had laid on the mat a moment ago, was now scrabbling at Abyss's wrist, trying to grab hold for some kind of relief.

Abyss looked down at the man, eyes screwed shut, tears now present streaking through the soot and blood on his cheeks. Abyss felt his heart clench, but he realized he couldn’t do this to Steve a second time, and continued on. He lifted Steve up fully and quickly, but gently, laid him back down on his coat. Even after Abyss's hands were no longer touching the smaller man, Steve's breathing was shallow and hitching, his back arching in agonized convulsions. Abyss tried to ignore it as he wrapped the front of the coat over Steve so he was completely bundled and protected from any wayward branch or debris he may walk through.

As Abyss covered him, he wrapped the sleeves around Steve a second time, tying them in a knot to keep the coat secure. The entire process was narrated by Steves quiet, croaking sobs, intermingled with Abyss's periodic pained encouragements of "Shhhh" and "I know", and even quieter was the occasional "I'm sorry".

Abyss was in no means a delicate man. He had found his place as a man capable of dealing damage, serious damage at that. He was a monster, the hired muscle, the looming figure backing up some sniveling mouthpiece, but he's never been the caretaker. This type of delicate work was new to him, and, given who he's taking care OF, it was terrifying. 

Steve is sturdy, quick, and can take more punishment than most his size. That being said, next to Abyss, Steve was as fragile as they come. Steve's twitches and tics caused him daily pain. Though most don't notice, Abyss can easily tell in the evenings whether or not his twitches had been severe throughout the day. Often times these tics could lead him to cause other bodily harm. Steve has lost fingernails on more than one occasion from worrying them in his teeth, accidentally ripping them when a harsh tic of the arm or neck caught him by surprise. Over time, Abyss had gotten used to being tactile with the smaller man, it kept Steve grounded. A solid grasp on the nape of his neck could keep him present and focused, and at the end of the day, the contact was good for both of them.

But now. Now those same stabilizing touches, a hand on the back, an arm draped over his chest, is causing Steve blind suffering. 

After Steve was securely wrapped in the coat (Abyss hopes Steve warming up a bit would help, but he was hoping for more things than he could count right now) Abyss gently cradled the bundle in his arms, again shushing any whimpers coming from the smaller man. The pressure of the smaller man's elbow in his ragged bloody stomach quickly reminded Abyss of the direness of their situation. He paused, taking a deep breath and letting the wave of nausea pass. As gently as he could manage, he slowly shifted the bundle in his arms, just enough to keep his elbow from repeatedly smacking into his open wounds.

After getting Steve secure, Abyss quickly glanced around, panic suddenly jolting up his spine. Abyss hadn't been keeping an eye out for anything. Someone could have easily jumped the two of them if they wanted to. He has no way to fight anyone off, not without the risk of hurting them both worse.

"Fucking stupid" Abyss quietly chastised himself. He could have gotten them both killed with that type of carelessness. Paying mind to where the fallen foliage littered the treeline, Abyss began his brisk exit of the Hardy compound. Well, as brisk as he could without risking a complete reopening of the uneven ragged wounds Janice had caused. No. No not Janice; Matthew. House Hardy. Abyss continued to remind himself of where it was that they were escaping. If Matt, or any of them finds him and Steve up and about, they'll just maim them worse. Abyss can take it, that wasn't his fear, he could take damage for days if he needed to. But there was no way Steve could handle any more. He can't even handle being carried right now. 

A renewed sense of urgency flared up in Abyss. They needed out. NOW.

It could be easily a couple miles before they reach any sort of fence line or gate. Aside from that they still have the issue of Rosemary, and how she's going to manage to find them.

Deep in his thoughts, Abyss snapped back to attention at a noise from the man in his arms. He must have said something, but Abyss had just missed it.

"What was that darlin'?"

Steve spoke again, in a voice so shaky, quiet, and scared, that Abyss almost didn't want to hear him speak at all.

"I-I'm mm--sorryy", the sentence trailed into weak sniffling, and Abyss could only assume that Steve was still crying.

"None of that" Abyss responded stiffly. He wasn't going to do this, they’re both going to be fine.

 

"We’ll be fine". Abyss was by nature an angry man. But right now that's not what they need. It’s not what Steve needs, not when he is already starting to spiral. 

He attempted to ignore Steves whimpers as he trudged further into the night.

 

\------------------------

Abyss is starting to get dizzy. His legs are trembling with each step, and the muscles in his arms are starting to burn from carrying Steve for so long. He doesn't know how long exactly he's been walking. He picked one direction, and did his best to stick with it, but he's been in the forest ever since. He didn't want to risk walking in the open, and in the treeline, the drone can't follow. Abyss can feel the sweat trailing down his temple, despite the frigid night air. Time is doing them no favors.

At that thought, Abyss realized that it had been some time since the man in his arms had said anything, or made any noticeable movements. Abyss felt the sinking pit of dread. He'd been focusing so intently on what was going on around him, that he’d neglected the man in his arms.

"Steve, how you holding up?" He asked quietly, pausing beside a large tree so he could hear for a response.

Nothing.

Abyss looked down at him, but could only make out the vague shapes of his face. It was too dark, and the only light coming from the moon was blocked by the thick forest surrounding him. Still Abyss could see that the smaller man was still.

Abyss spoke again, his voice laced with worry, teetering on the edge of panic,

"Stevie? Come on, can you hear me?”

Nothing

Abyss’ breath picked up, and he began uselessly swiveling his head to look into the darkness, as though seeking help in the dark woods. He pulls Steve closer to him, his wet, soot caked hair smudging against Abyss’ cheek. His voice was growing shaky and was only a whisper. A plea.

“Stevie please, cmon. You gotta say something, ok? Anything, Stevie please”

Silence

Abyss looked about their place in the woods, for some sign, ANY sign that the propertyline was nearby. Abyss threw his precaution to the wind in favor of panicked desperation.

“Rosemary! Where are you, beautiful?!”

Abyss broke into a run. A thunderous, heavy stepped clomping, punctuated by a limp so bodily and unavoidable, any witnesses would have thought he was missing a foot altogether. He felt twigs snap, and heartier sticks cut into his face as he forced his way through the brush.

Abyss stopped for a moment to lean against a tree and shake off the spinning nausea that threatened to pull him from consciousness. Looking up at the treetop, he sees a gap in the otherwise solid canopy, where the stars are able to cast a delicate light down onto him, Steve, and the surrounding forest floor. However, something is off. This light isn’t typical starlight.

Its green.

Abyss knows that color. That sickly shine that calls to him like it has so many times before. He doesn’t doubt for one moment what this light is

“What’re you tellin me, darlin? Where do I go?” 

Abyss looked down from the sky back to the pitch black forest that had previously stretched out for miles around him. Now, there was a change. Like a pinhole in plack parchment, a tiny light stood out in the distance through the trees.

It was green as well.

Abyss felt what he could only imagine was hope, and with that came a renewed sense of energy, of purpose. Rosemary is calling to them, and Abyss would be remiss to disappoint his queen. With a heavy breath, he continued forward, eyes locked on the green bead of light that sat in the distance. As he trudged forward, the light grew brighter, and Abyss could see that the edge of the treeline was within sight.

“Almost there. Rosemary will make it all better.” Abyss whispered, adjusting the unmoving man in his arms.

As he walked, he felt the exhaustion pull on his frame. His wound throbbed deeply, pulsing as he willed himself forward. The nausea, which had before come and gone in waves, now remains constant, periodically blurring his vision and making maintaining balance a constant battle. 

Through the woods, Abyss starts to see what lies beyond. The green light dims slightly, letting Abyss see the fenceline of the property. The fence itself had been shredded in one particular portion. At that hole in the fence, still remaining on the outside of the limits of the property, was the demon herself. Her one red eye staring seemingly into Abyss, while her other eye’s usually milky pupil still maintained a dimming green light. Their beacon was the gift of her watchful gaze leading them back to her. Abyss felt numb wandering the last few feet to the edge of the tree line, nearly stumbling on the uncovered root system as he made the final steps into the open air. Not wasting any time, Abyss falls to a knee in front of the torn fence, delicately shifting steve through to the safety of Hardy-free land. Rosemary watched, head cocked and with a curious eye, as Abyss sets down Steve, still wrapped in his tattered trenchcoat. As soon as Steve is laid down on the grass, Abyss crumples, slumping through the hole in the fence to lay in a heap on the grass, right beside Steve.

Rosemary steps thoughtfully towards them and sits on her legs beside both of their heads, reaching down to fiddle with the the pile of Abyss’ trenchcoat. Deftly, she unties the knots on the coat and unwraps it, revealing Steve, coated in a layer of soot blackened cold sweat. Rosemary frowns, like a child disappointed with a gift they just opened. 

“We had a feeling this may have been the case.” She looks down at Abyss, who is barely conscious at this point, but still reaching with a red stained hand, for Steve, for her, for anything. Rosemary watched him, but ran her fingers through Steve’s burnt hair, taking in every detail she can as she does. After a moment, she stops, and a small smile crept onto her face.

“Our family is a top priority. We waited here, waiting to see if the hive would be without members of its family. We listened, but the voices stayed. They are quiet,” Rosemary smooths Steves hair out of his face, wiping some of the filth from his face. She looks to Abyss, a look of warm approval

“But because of you, all the voices are still there. Abyss, you have made us very proud.”

With this, she shifts, moving her other free hand to gently caress Abyss’ grimy cheek. Abyss leans into the touch instantly without shame. Despite this, his face still was grave with worry.

“Steve needs you. He passed out and I couldn’t help him.”

Rosemary frowns again, hand stilling on Abyss’ cheek,

“You did all you could. And you brought him to his queen. You are not at fault.”

Her hand tenses

“It was the Hardys. It IS the Hardys. And it will always BE the Hardys that are to blame for this. Never forget this fact, our beautiful Abyss.”

Abyss simply nods, and lets his head fall back onto the grass, lolling to the side to keep an eye on Steve.

Abyss watched Rosemary place a hand on Steves chest, using the other to firmly grasp his jaw and hold his mouth open. Abyss watches as Steves limp face sits so still, with eyes peacefully closed. It wasn’t right. It's how dolls look, or how corpses look. It isn’t a look meant for Stevie.

He glances back up to Rosemary, who’s one red pupil was constricted to a pin point as she looms over Steves face. She was mouthing something, babbling perhaps, and her shoulders started to twitch. As she does this, Abyss reaches back for one of Steve’s hands, seizing it tightly, ignoring how gut-wrenchingly cold it is. He watches as, quickly, she rears back, throwing her head back to stare into the sky, before spewing a thick green mist onto Steve. 

Instantly, Steves hand clamps down on Abyss’, almost painfully so. Steve’s eyes shoot open, blinking madly as tears streak through the thick residue that now clings onto and into him. He gasps loudly, back arching off the grass, hand shaking with the intense grip. Instead of an exhale, Steve shrieks, his one free hand moving to claw at his own face before Rosemary grabs it and pins it at his side. Again he gasps in an inhale, and lets a broken, shrill yell out; as his feet kick and muscles quiver beneath the skin, which seems less charred than it just was. 

Steve turns his head away, seemingly to try and avoid the pain, only to stare into Abyss’ face. Abyss, while sympathetic of the pain he is clearly in, can’t help himself.

He starts to laugh. 

A loud, booming laugh, as Steve looks at him pleadingly, tears still streaming down his cheeks as he thrashes in their grasp. Rosemary laughs too. Or maybe she had been already, Abyss isn’t sure. 

Rosemary smiles warmly at Steve, who is still kicking his legs and arching his back in agony.

“Dragged back into this world kicking and screaming, how fitting.”

It’s been a night of agony. Abyss was still in desperate pain, but he was with his family, so he couldn’t be bothered to care. Steve was safe, Rosemary found them, Abyss didn’t lose anyone. Despite everything that happened, in the hellscape that is this night, at least he has this moment now. Abyss looks up at the night sky, no longer blocked by tree canopy. The sound of agonized sobs intermingle with the sound of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. He squeezes steves hand, looking to him and then to Rosemary,

“What a beautiful night.”


End file.
